A Taste for Secrets
by Dreamer076
Summary: Some Fun Backstory to 'A Currency of Secrets'. A series of inter-connected one-shot scenes around the Christmas holidays. Lily Evans has been burned in the past and now she sells her secrets dearly. James Potter wants to be the one she confides in. Who will get their dearest wish? Now complete. The main story, A Currency of Secrets, is now up.
1. Fire and Ice at Christmas Time

Disclaimer – I, like countless others, owe a great debt to J K Rowling. Part of that debt is the world, characters and over-arching plot of this story. I am not the creator of Hogwarts or its characters.

As it says in the summary, this is a prequel. The main story, A Currency of Secrets, spans all of Term Three and will be posted from mid-April until June.

Most of this story is told from Lily's point of view.

Term three will also include the Marauders' points of view, as well as that of Andromeda Black, including her own hate/love story with Ted Tonks.

* * *

Fire and Ice at Christmas Time

* * *

Tuesday December 14, 1976

\- Lily -

"Potter!"

"Yes, Evans?" A sweet smile.

"Don't you play innocent with me."

"What would you like me to play with you?" A suggestive smirk.

"Why don't you play dead, Potter."

"Only if you stop playing hard to get… Ow!"

Lily Evans had punched James Potter hard in the chest.

"As if that hurt. Now give me that salamander!"

"What are you going to do with it?"

"What do you think, Potter? I'm putting it back into the fire."

"No, I'm liberating it. That's the sort of guy I am." A self-appreciative grin.

Lily had lost her patience with Potter. Again.

"Accio."

A glowing fire lizard soared out of Potter's pocket, sailed neatly over the heads of their sixth year Care of Magical Creatures class, and landed gently in Lily's hand. It was hot, so she quickly tossed it back into the flames of the class's bonfire.

"Miss Evans." It was Professor Kettleburn, having appeared as he so often did, from nowhere. And he was frowning deeply at her. "Would you say it is appropriate to levitate magical creatures?"

Lily flushed, less with embarrassment, more with anger at Potter.

"No Professor, I was just-"

"I expect better of all the students in my classes, but especially the prefects. The magical creatures we study are to be treated with _dignity_. Five points from Gryffindor."

The professor abruptly turned away to circle the class once more. He seemed abrupt with any creature possessing less than three legs.

The students were meant to be making labelled diagrams of the salamanders as they crawled over the glowing coals, but most were merely warming their chilled hands or covertly toasting marshmallows. Professor Kettleburn, more intent on the salamanders than the students in his charge, didn't seem to notice.

Lily turned her glare on Potter who not only didn't look appropriately guilty at getting her into trouble, he didn't seem to have noticed her predicament at all. He was now on the opposite side of the fire, trying to coax a new salamander onto his dragon-hide glove.

Clenching her fists, Lily had just started towards him when the bell rang for the end of the period. Professor Kettleburn announced, without looking at the students, "Okay, completed sketches to be handed in on Thursday. If you need more time, I'll be keeping the fire going until dinner."

Potter and Black had started jogging back to the castle before the professor had finished speaking.

The rest of the class, who had begun packing away their things, settled back onto their logs and cloaks with a whisper of contented sighs. Almost all of the sixth years had a free period next. If it was a choice between being indoors or huddled around the bonfire, the choice was easy.

"Lily." Greta Catchlove, a slim half-Indian girl with a long black plait, pulled on Lily's arm.

Lily was still busy glaring at Potter's retreating back. A trail of sparks was spouting suspiciously from his back pocket.

"Earth to Lily." Lily frowned and turned her attention to her friend. "Good. She emerges from her Potter-trance."

Lily scowled at that. "What, Greta?"

Greta frowned. "You said you'd help me with my Charms essay."

"Oh." Lily cleared her expression with an effort. "Right. Yeah, we should go."

"Seems a shame to leave the fire behind, though."

They both stared wistfully at the flames for a moment. Lily sighed.

"Come on, we'll get some eggnog on the way."

Greta brightened. They grabbed their bags and headed back up to the castle through the chilly December breeze.

The entrance hall was not only warm but welcoming – complete with the usual twelve Christmas trees and enticing smells of Christmas baking: cinnamon, nutmeg, pumpkin, turkey.

The frown finally melted completed off Lily's face as she took a moment to survey Hogwarts in all its Christmas glory. Apart from the trees, garlands of holly, chains of glowing gold bubbles, and sprigs of mistletoe adorned the walls and the bannister of the marble staircase.

"You coming?" Greta said, already headed for the great hall. Lily followed her friend to the table where warm eggnog was available all day in the week leading up to the Christmas holidays. Most students were in class so there was no queue either. Greta ladled out a steaming mug for each of them. Lily cupped hers in both hands to warm her fingers and sipped gratefully, closing her eyes to savour the taste. A combination of cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla consumed her attention for several moments.

"Did Black and Potter spike it again?" Greta asked, sniffing her own drink.

"No, its fine."

"Darn." Lily raised an eyebrow. "What?" Greta said shrugging. "I could have used something to help me get through all of this Charms homework."

"I don't think a shot of rum will improve your concentration."

"No, but it might make the whole thing more fun." Greta grinned. Lily rolled her eyes but smiled.

"As a prefect, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"You're a lot more fun when you're not being a prefect."

"Tell me about it. Want to trade?"

"No way!"

Greta led the way out of the great hall and up the marble staircase.

"Is it that bad?" Greta asked. "Being a prefect."

Lily frowned. "Mostly no. Apart from patrol duty, and supervising wet weather lunches, and little bratty Slytherins." She paused. "And big bratty Gryffindors."

"Ah come on, live a little. Black and Potter are alright. Some of their pranks are funny."

"And some of them are downright dangerous."

"Like what?"

"Like turning the third floor corridor into a frozen lake."

"What, they never did that!" Greta protested.

Lily halted and pointed. In front of them stretched the third floor corridor, now more akin to an ice skating rink than a hallway. Black and Potter were at the far end, slapping each other on the back and clearly admiring their handiwork.

"Potter!" Lily called, glare rapidly returning.

Black's 'Uh oh' was audible even over the distance. The two black-haired pranksters exchanged an obvious glance. Then Potter stepped onto the ice, gliding gracefully over the pristine surface. Lily glanced down. He'd added steel blades to his shoes.

As usual, Potter was unable to resist showing off. Lily was determinedly unimpressed as he executed several sharp turns and a flawlessly smooth figure eight before stopping sharply in front of her, sending a smattering of shaved ice over the girls' feet. Lily shook out her shoes, scowling.

Potter bowed gallantly, taller than usual due to his skates. His hand, magnetically attracted, mussed his already messy black hair.

"You called, Miss Evans?" Potter's trademark charming grin was firmly in place. Lily presented him with her usual glare.

"And might I say," he added, glancing her over appreciatively, "you're looking beautiful as usual. And very Christmas-y."

"Potter-" Lily cut off at his last words, eyes narrowing. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your hair is its usual lustrous red, your eyes a sparkling green, and your soul so golden it shines from within."

Lily, recalling her promise to never gape at Potter, no matter how much disbelief he caused her, snapped her jaw shut. He scowl deepened.

"My _soul_?"

Beside her, Greta snorted.

"He's right Lily. If there's one thing I've always admired about you, its your golden soul." She burst into another snort of giggles.

"See, even Catchy has seen it." Greta rolled her eyes at the nickname but was beyond protesting by now.

Potter, a generous bestower of nicknames, had made Greta Catchlove one of his first victims. When she'd joined the quidditch team as seeker in third year, he'd tried to get everyone to adopt his clever nickname. Luckily, it hadn't caught on, but this didn't stop Potter enjoying its use.

"Potter," Lily said, her voice hard, "remove this ice."

"I will if you go out with me." Another automatic reflex. "Come on, come to Hogsemde with me this weekend."

Lily put her hands on her hips and stared him down. She'd long since stopped dignifying his requests with a response.

"Awww, Lily, come on," Greta said, looking longingly at the ice. "It looks like fun." Lily shot her a look.

"You have excellent taste Miss Catchlove," Potter declared, his voice gallant once more. He reached for his wand. "Allow me to assist in your enjoyment."

A wave of his wand later and Greta had her own skates. Grinning, Greta stepped out onto the ice, almost as graceful as Potter, and skated off, leaving Lily alone with her glare and a now triumphant Potter. Some friend, Lily growled in her head.

"Potter, this is dangerous," Lily said loudly, crossing her arms and standing her ground.

"Dangerous?" Black barked from the ice. He was skating backwards in a wide circle with alarming speed. "What's dangerous about a little ice?"

"If you're scared of the ice, Red, I'll hold your hand," Potter said, changing gears to his smooth deep voice.

"It's Evans, Potter, not 'Red'," Lily snapped, sick of shooting down the nickname.

"Evans Potter?" Potter repeated, head tilted to the side in amusement. "That doesn't sound right. But Lily potter? I like the sound of that." His smile broadened.

Lily all but growled in response.

"James Potter, if your ego was a mountain, it would be Everest. There is more chance of a hippogriff flying to the moon than me ever even holding your hand."

"Okay, Evvy, relax, it was just a joke." Potter paused, looking thoughtful. "Though, just so you know, I'm open to the idea of getting engaged. I know it's a bit soon and all, but…"

Potter grinned again, this time his 'I'm so funny' smirk.

Lily shoved him in the chest, hoping to catch him off balance and send him sprawling on his butt. Instead James grabbed her hands and skated backwards a few steps, pulling her onto the ice with him. Lily's feet slid and stumbled on the slippery surface. James transfigured her shoes into skates, still holding her firmly under the elbow to keep her upright.

"James Potter," Lily shrieked, hating how her voice rose in panic. "Put me down right now."

"I can't let you go now," Potter told her calmly, "you'd fall. You've never skated before, have you?"

Lily tried to push him away again, but only succeeded in losing her balance. Potter caught her easily and pulled her in close to his side.

"Why is it," Lily panted, breathless with anger and shaking with nerves, "that you are utterly incapable of comprehending a refusal?"

"I love that you use big words when you're mad," Potter said, his low voice somewhere near her ear.

"Potter, this is harassment! Take your hands off me or so help me I will hex you!"

This made him frown. Potter's eyes turned wary, especially when he looked and saw Lily's wand in her hand.

"Okay, Red, settle down. It's no big deal."

Potter glided them both back to the edge of the ice. Lily tripped the last few paces by herself in her hurry to get away from him and the slippery ice. When she reached the safety of the wooden floor, Lily took a deep breath and transfigured her shoes back with a wave of her wand. The she turned a frighteningly deep scowl, and her wand, on James Potter.

This time Potter had the sense to look somewhat ashamed – though knowing Potter it could just as easily be a very convincing act. Lily had seen him use the same tactic countless times on their professors.

"_Don'_t," Lily breathed, face red with rage, "_ever_ _touch me again_, Potter. Other girls might not care that you don't know the meaning of 'personal space' but don't you dare confuse me with one of them for an instant."

"I'm sorry Red-"

"Evans!"

"Evans," Potter amended quickly. "I just wanted to teach you to skate. Its why we-"

Potter had begun gesturing to the frozen corridor but Lily was beyond listening.

"This is exactly what's wrong with you, Potter! You don't listen, you don't stop and think, you _refuse to see_ how other people feel. If you ever opened your ears dust would fall out from lack of use! It's all about you," she shoved him in the chest with her finger, "and what _you _want! Well leave me out of your stupid ego trip or I'll-"

Lily was cut off by the sound of a door banging open halfway down the corridor. Greta and Black, who'd been trying to out do each other with their spins, paused to look. A third year, still looking back into the classroom, stepped out into the frozen corridor. In a flurry of whirling arms and robes, she slipped, fell, and knocked her head on the ice. She didn't move.

Black swore loudly and skated straight over. Lily stood on her tiptoes to see but couldn't get any closer without venturing onto the ice. Potter seemed torn between heading over and staying with Lily.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall appeared in the same doorway. She bent over the student for a minute, then magicked her onto a stretcher. The professor glanced at the hallway with distaste, vanished the ice (and the skates) with a casual flick of her wand, and peered at the students in front of her.

"Evans, Catchlove," she said sharply. "I assume you don't have anything to do with this?"

"No Professor," Greta said quickly, casting a guilty glance the corridor where she'd been skating a moment before.

"Good. Please escort young Pandora to the hospital wing."

Lily hurried to join Greta but pulled up short when she saw the prone Pandora Page. With her pinched cheeks and straight blonde hair, the young Ravenclaw looked for a moment like a young Petunia. Lily, who hadn't heard from her sister in months, felt her heart leap into her throat. Normally excellent at repressing her fears, Lily was struck by a sudden reminder that something terrible could have happened to Petunia, and Lily would be the last to know.

Lily felt a sharp nudge from Greta's elbow and looked up. Professor McGonagall was watching her impatiently.

"Miss Evans, can I trust you with the care of Miss Page?"

Lily had the sinking feeling it wasn't the first time the professor had addressed her.

"Of course, Professor," Lily said, regaining her composure as thoroughly as donning a mask.

"Very well. Miss Page is merely unconscious, but please ask Madam Pomfrey to check her spine for damage before moving her further."

Lily nodded and, using her wand to steer the stretcher, guided the prone Bell up the corridor.

"Now," Professor McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip as she turned to Potter and Black, "which one of you wants to explain the dire foolishness I just witnessed."

Lily would have found it amusing to hear Professor McGonagall dress down Potter if the sight of the unconscious Pandora hadn't been so real and worrying. Greta's previous glee had also disappeared. It was a sombre walk to the hospital wing.

Halfway there, Greta broke the silence.

"Where'd you go before?"

Lily glanced sharply at her friend.

"When you didn't hear McGonagall," Greta clarified.

"Nowhere," Lily said shortly. The topic was not open for conversation. Not only had she and Greta only become proper friends at the end of last year, Lily had been badly burned by the last two people she'd trusted completely – Petunia and Severus Snape.

"Really? Because you've been going 'nowhere' a lot more lately."

Lily didn't answer. She'd been waiting on a reply from Petunia since the start of December. Of course, she knew Petunia was just ignoring her. But occasionally doubt crept in.

Greta watched Lily closely for a moment, then let the subject drop.

They reached the hospital wing and knocked on the door. Madam Pomfrey frowned at first when they delivered her patient. Lily and Greta hovered in the doorway while she completed her examination. Within minutes it was over.

"No lasting damage," Madame Pomfrey declared. She prodded Bell gently with her wand and the girl stirred, rubbed her eyes, and sat up. Lily bit down hard on a memory of mornings when she'd shared a room with her sister. Madame Pomfrey glanced across at Lily and Greta.

"Off you go girls, what Miss Page needs now is some rest."

\- Sirius -

"So," Sirius began, as he and James finally left McGonagall's office, with a detention a piece and fifty points lost for Gryffindor. "That went well."

"Yeah, I'd better win this next match or we'll lose the house cup this year. We probably need to stop losing points, eh?"

"I meant with Evans."

"Oh. Yeah, well."

Sirius waited but James didn't elaborate.

"I didn't see everything, but I distinctly heard her shout the word 'harassment'. I'm no expert, but that doesn't sound like things went well."

James rubbed the back of his neck and scowled at the floor.

"It's possible I over-stepped a bit."

"What did you do? Drag her along with you?"

James didn't answer.

Sirius gave a low whistle.

"I thought you knew how to handle girls, Prongsie?"

"I do! But Evans is just… different. She messes with my head. I… like her."

"Sounds like you like her too much."

"Well that's not something I can fix, is it?" James snapped back.

"Whoa, don't take my head off." They strolled in silence for a minute.

"Have you tried just talking to her?"

James stared blankly at Sirius as though he didn't recognise him.

"You do know what talking is, right?" Sirius asked tentatively.

"I'm just looking at Sirius Black suggesting holding a conversation with a girl. Since when is that in _your _repertoire?"

"Ah, I slide it in there sometimes, between snogging and flattery. But usually I don't need it. _You _on the other hand," Sirius declared, wrapping an arm around James' shoulders, "probably need to try something new. You can't _force _her to spend time with you, but could try having her not hate every interaction you have together."

James shrugged out of Sirius grip, rolling his eyes.

"Great idea, genius. Any idea how to get her to sit still long enough to listen?"

Sirius shrugged and grinned evilly.

"Maybe show her the real James Potter that I know and love."

Sirius thoroughly spoilt the statement by ruffling James' hair in a motherly fashion. James' slapped his hand away, then punched him in the arm for good measure. Sirius slapped James' cheek lightly and danced out of range. James' pounced on him, missed, and chased his friend all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, narrowly missing colliding with two first years and a fifth year on the way.


	2. Fairy Lights and Broken Silence

Fairy Lights and Broken Silence

* * *

Tuesday December 14

\- Lily -

Lily and Greta headed down to dinner.

"Shame we didn't get to work on Charms for longer," Greta said, sounding anything but disappointed. Lily was watching the red and gold baubles floating in a serene dance near the ceiling of the corridor, and didn't reply.

There was something about Christmas that Lily found calming, even in her moments of deepest doubt. There was a promise hidden among the trappings and the food, a promise of family and safety. It had been written on her heart as a young girl, back when Christmas had indeed been a time of cheer and feasting, carols and family. Lily shut out her worries about what the coming holiday would bring, and focused on the decorations adorning every corridor between here and the great hall.

Dinner was, once again, magical. Lily wondered if the house elves made the final week of term so special because so many of the students would miss the feast on Christmas day itself. Tonight it was the roast turkeys Lily had smelled baking earlier, surrounded by roast pumpkin and potatoes, honeyed carrots, minted peas, rich gravy and thick cranberry sauce.

Lily, further comforted by the sights and smells, sunk gratefully into her seat and served herself a large portion. Greta and Lily were joined by Alice Fortescue and Mary MacDonald, their fellow Gryffindor sixth years. Alice was a calming presence, soft and willowy, quiet and intelligent. Tonight her sheet of silvery blonde hair reflected the candlelight, and her blue eyes twinkled. Mary was short and plain, also quiet, with an ordinary brown bob and gentle brown eyes. Both of their cheeks were flushed from the air outside – clearly they'd been enjoying the bonfire.

"I heard Pandora Page is in the hospital wing," Mary said, scooping peas onto her plate.

"Yeah, thanks to Potter and Black," Lily said, her voice hard once more.

"It wasn't exactly their fault," Greta amended, causing Lily to frown at her. "What, its not like they knocked her over."

"If they hadn't frozen the corridor-"

"They did what?"

"They made an ice rink out of the third floor," Greta said, turning to her friends with enthusiasm. "You should have seen it!"

"It was dangerous!" Lily interrupted hotly.

"Only because they didn't warn people about it! I wonder if they'd do it again," Greta mused.

Lily's reply was cut off by a barn owl swooping low and dropping a letter into her half-eaten dinner. Lily was surprised – letters were almost always delivered at breakfast – but her surprise turned to a roil of emotion when she saw the muggle stamp on the envelope. A letter sent through the muggle post, forwarded to Hogwarts. Lily's parents had their own owl. This could only be from one person.

Lily sat frozen for a moment, unsure whether she wanted to open the letter at all, now that it was here. Then she realised three sets of eyes were on her and her mysterious letter, and what she wanted most was to be alone. Lily stood up abruptly, shaking the peas off the envelope.

"I'll be back," she told her friends, ignoring their curious or concerned expressions.

"Lily, if you need anything," Alice began, but Lily merely gave her a weak smile that failed to be reassuring and ducked out of the great hall.

Lily began the long trek to Gryffindor tower, knowing she was merely putting off opening the letter for a few more minutes. But, she told herself, she didn't know what was inside. She might be glad of the absolute privacy once she found out. Lily hated the idea of anyone witnessing her in a moment of fragility. Petunia was one of the few people in the world who could still make Lily lose her grip on her emotions.

Both a moment and an eternity later, Lily was sitting cross-legged on her bed, curtains drawn, the envelope staring back at her. What was the worst it could say? That Petunia couldn't come?

Lily slit it open, hands trembling slightly. She unfolded the letter – typewritten rather than penned. It shouldn't matter, but there was something familiar about her sister's perfect flowing lettering that made Lily feel some small connection to her – a sight from her childhood. Something else lost.

_Lily,_

_Vernon is unable to get time off work. As for coming alone, father's sickness upsets me so much I just can't face a family Christmas without Vernon's support. I know you'll understand. _

_I will also be unable to pick you up from the train station._

_Have a good Christmas,_

_Petunia _

Lily read the letter through three times without pausing to allow her own thoughts to surface. Her blood felt hot in her veins, her stomach weighed down.

Phrases began to stand out to her, able to be comprehended only one at a time.

_Vernon_. Lily had felt an unfounded dislike of Petunia's boyfriend, Vernon Dursley since the first day they'd met, which had only driven Petunia further away. The fact that his numerous flaws had been revealed in the following months was imperceptible to Petunia.

_Coming alone_. Alone? Since when was Petunia alone when she was with her family?

_Father's sickness_. As though terminal cancer was a bad bout of flu.

_Upsets me so much_. Yes, because things always had to be about Petunia.

_Without Vernon's support_. Support. Lily's gut twisted angrily. It had been a long time since Lily had felt supported by anyone except her weakening father, and _he _was the one who really needed _their_ support. Not that Petunia was of any use in that regard.

_I know you'll understand_. Lily bristled. It was Petunia's way of saying she wouldn't change her mind. 'Don't bother asking again,' she meant.

And, Lily thought, now shaking with suppressed anger, how was she supposed to get home from King's Cross? Her father normally drove her, but he was too ill at the moment to be permitted his licence. Lily's mother, a nervous driver at the best of times, was frankly dangerous in the crowded city streets. Lily huffed out an angry, but not yet defeated, sigh.

First things first. Lily grabbed her wand and burned the letter. When this didn't disperse her anger, she burned the envelope too. Now breathing in smoke, and still far from calm, Lily grabbed some parchment to send Petunia back a response worthy of such a letter. Her quill hovered over the paper, like a poised sword. And it hovered. Some ink dripped onto the page. Lily scowled at the parchment. Then she threw down the quill in disgust.

She had no words. She was too angry for words. And was there anything she could say that she hadn't already told Petunia? Any name that she hadn't already called her? Anything that wouldn't push her further away?

Lily jumped off the bed and paced, turning sharply on her heel each time she reached the wall. What scared her more than the depths of her anger – Lily had a temper and was accustomed to anger – was the weight sitting heavy in her stomach. A clenched aching thing. Lily refused to acknowledge it, hating the counsellor her mother had bullied her into seeing last holidays, because now she had a name for it. Grief. Lily Evans didn't _grieve_. She was strong. She was the pillar in her family. Like her father had been. It was as though his mantle would pass – was passing – to her. Lily swallowed, her throat feeling dangerously restricted, furious with herself. Lily Evans didn't _cry_.

And then her situation got immensely worse. Lily heard three sets of footsteps, three concerned voices, ascending the dormitory steps. Lily took a deep breath, which hitched traitorously in her throat. This wouldn't do. Lily strode for the door before her friends could open it. Before they could say anything, Lily announced,

"I'm heading to the prefects' bathroom." One place they couldn't follow. "Don't wait up."

And then she was successfully past them and down the stairs. Lily crossed the common room, determinedly ignoring the people reclining and laughing on couches, enjoying the last of the term, and ducked out of the portrait hole. Lily didn't notice a certain black-haired someone watching her, or see him stand up as she left the common room.

The corridors were silent and empty, a relief. It was after almost curfew, but as a prefect Lily could invent a believable reason for being out of bed. Lily stalked down the cold corridors, hands deep in her pockets, fuming silently.

Stupid Petunia. It had been a long time since Lily had allowed her sister's antics to upset her like this. Lily struggled not to name her emotions – they were easier to deal with as a hot vague roil under her skin – but she knew what she was feeling: abandoned and betrayed. It was one thing for Petunia to sulk and hover on the edges of a family Christmas, but for her to bail completely…

Lily clenched her fists. Christmas was supposed to be a time of family, of peace, of joy. Not guilt and anger and exhaustion. And quite suddenly, Lily knew where she wanted to be tonight. She'd been angling vaguely in the direction of the prefects' bathroom, but now she changed course, heading for the ground floor.

Outside the windows the sky was black, the air crisp but no trace yet of snow. Lily pulled her cloak closer around her, wishing she'd swapped it for her big coat. Her pale face was pink with cold, her nose almost as red as her hair. The stone walls radiated the cold back at her, but Lily hurried on, rubbing her hands together for warmth. It would be worth it. She needed this.

Several staircases later, Lily finally descended into the entrance hall. The twelve Christmas trees stood sentinel, some decorated with candles, some with bubbles of light. But Lily headed for the one nearest the front doors, the one bedecked with live fairies, glowing bright like intricate ornaments.

She paused, staring at the tree. This. Just this. Christmas, like it had been that first year at Hogwarts. The first time she'd seen the twelve trees, the first time she'd seen living fairies, like the pictures in her old story books brought to life. Perfect little faces, tiny hands, flickering insect wings. Their postures were proud and haughty, aware of their own beauty, but beautiful nonetheless.

That first Christmas Lily had expected to go home to a house unchanged. To a Christmas like all the others filled with family, food and fun. Peace joy and love. Carols and caring and cake.

Knowing she couldn't stand around in open like this – she'd be caught – Lily made her way behind the wide lower branches, finding a place in the corner of the hall where she could sink to the flagstone floor, hidden by the pine needles, watching the fairies without being seen by anyone passing by. The warmth of dozens of glowing fairies was like a gentle blanket. There was nothing stopping her from sitting here all night, from spending just a few more hours in the past before she had to face another week of classes, another Christmas feeling alone.

Lily leaned her head back, eyes fixed on the glowing fairy on the low branch in front of her. She took a few deep calming breaths, felt her heart rate finally slow, her fingers unclench. Lily Evans, prefect and class-topper, hadn't been a little girl for a long time. But that didn't stop her wishing for simpler times on a night like this.

Footsteps sounded on the marble staircase. Lily held her breath. It was probably just a teacher getting a hot chocolate or something. There was no reason for anyone to come near the front doors, to come anywhere near her hiding spot.

But the footsteps passed the doors to the great hall, hesitating as they approached the last couple of Christmas trees. A few more steps and a face poked around the edge of the tree. The last face Lily wanted to see when she was hiding like a child, clenched fingers aching with suppressed anger, heart heavy with longing for the past.

James Potter looked just as surprised to find her here, of all places.

"Red?" he asked tentatively, a hand jumping to mess his black hair.

"I'm not in the mood for you or your dumb nicknames, Potter," Lily said coldly, with much dignity as she could while sitting cross-legged on the flagstones behind a fir tree.

"I was looking for you to give you your Christmas present," Potter said hesitantly, clearly reading the look on her face, for once. "You know, since you don't like public displays of affection."

"I don't like any displays of affection from _you_," Lily said, trying to put the usual venom into her voice, and failing. Her voice sounded small, fragile. Lily grit her teeth and clenched her fists more tightly. "Leave me _alone_, Potter."

"I- I saw you leave the common room…" James' voice was hesitant, his face apologetic.

"You _followed _me?" Lily demanded, bright green eyes flashing dangerously.

"You looked… sad." Potter looked down at his hands. His head was still at an odd angle around the tree where he'd poked it to find her. It would have been comical if she hadn't been so displeased to see him.

"And what part of that made you think I'd want you to _join _me?" Now her voice carried some ice.

Potter swallowed, and finally looked away from her intense gaze to watch a fairy fluttering her wings. "I just… don't think people should be sad by themselves."

"Did it even occur to you that I left to _be_ by myself?"

"Nobody _wants_ to be alone when they're sad." Potter sounded so sure of himself – as usual. Though his voice was serious – one of the very few times Lily had heard anything but a smart-arse comeback or suave pick up line.

"Some people do," Lily told him sharply, but she averted her gaze so he couldn't see her eyes.

"No. People might not want to talk about their sadnesses, but no one wants to sit alone in the cold with a heavy burden."

Lily looked up at him, frowning, a crease between her eyes. Was this cliché-spouting boy the same James Potter who had hexed Param Patil earlier today because he had taken the last cream pie? Not that she liked this interfering Potter any better than the regular one.

"So," Potter said, turning his solemn brown eyes back to hers, "Budge up."

"What?" Lily snapped, her frown deepening again.

"Move over. I'm coming in." Potter's sure-of-himself smile reappeared as he turned side on to squeeze past the branches.

"Don't you dare. There's no room in here."

"Sure there is. Just move over a couple inches."

"No."

"Then I'll sit on you," he said cheerfully.

Lily was trapped between Potter, the tree and the wall.

"I'll hex you if you come any closer."

"No you won't. You don't have your wand."

Lily cursed under her breath. It was true.

Potter grinned at her, that trademark cocky smirk, and Lily clenched her fists and scowled.

"Come on, I promise I won't even say anything. I'll just keep you company."

"I don't want company."

"Yes you do. You just don't want my company. Or – you don't think you do. I mean it," he added bending his knees. "I will sit on you if you don't move."

"This is your idea of consoling?" Lily grumbled, scooting over the required three inches, and just managing to avoid poking herself in the eye with a branch.

Potter lowered himself to the ground, stretched out his legs under the tree branches, and closed his eyes. Lily watched him suspiciously. She waited two whole minutes. Potter neither moved nor spoke, his eyes remaining closed as though he was napping. Lily watched the pulse in the side of his neck for a moment. He looked perfectly content as he sat on the hard stone floor beside her.

"You're really not going to ask?" Lily demanded impatiently.

Potter's eyes opened. He glanced at her, then away.

"I thought you didn't want me to ask."

"I don't."

"Right then."

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. Lily sighed in exasperation.

"How is this supposed to be helpful?"

Potter didn't open his eyes this time.

"You're not alone, and I'll wager you're less sad than you were before I got here."

"Only because now I'm angry."

Potter shrugged as though this difference was unimportant.

Lily swiped at a branch in irritation, upsetting a fairy who protested in a shrill cry, shaking his tiny fist at her. Lily shook her fist back, and the fairy, glowering, flew to a higher branch.

"Taking your anger out on people smaller than you…" Potter tutted, a slight lilt of teasing in his voice.

Lily turned a glower of her own on him.

"Says the school bully."

"Hey, I'm not a bully. I only hex people who can defend themselves."

"You hex people when they're not looking, and Slytherin first years too."

"I said 'can defend themselves', not 'are itching for a duel.' And the Slytherin first years we hex know more curses than you do. We just teach them their place early on. Helps keep the peace for everyone."

"Is that why you hexed Severus Snape on day one?" Lily demanded.

Potter turned to face her. Lily hadn't realised how close their faces were, how his eyes had flecks of green in them. This annoyed her more than anything so far, and she turned resolutely back to facing the tree.

"Snivellus Snape knew more dark magic the day he arrived than the seventh years did."

Potter's voice was firm, his jaw tense. There were a few beats of silence. Lily didn't have a counter-argument to that. These days she knew exactly what Severus Snape was like. But she didn't have to like it.

"So… _did _you want me to ask?" Potter ventured.

"No."

"Okay."

They both stared at the tree some more.

"I don't know why you even care," Lily said a few minutes later.

"Well, there's the small fact that I like you."

"No you don't."

Lily got great satisfaction from the way Potter's jaw dropped. He turned to her but she pushed his face back to face the front on with a firm hand.

"How can you say that? I ask you out all the time."

"That doesn't mean you like me. You want me to say yes because I'm the only girl who's said no. That's not a crush. That's a conquest."

"Evans, I swear, you are not a _conquest_. I like you."

"Fine. What do you like about me?" Lily's voice was not encouraging. Potter shifted where he sat, tried to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, you're pretty. And you don't take any crap. And you're smart. And you can do the curse of the bat bogies."

"Wow, such deep reasons. Do you know how many girls fit that description?"

"Name one."

"Andromeda Black."

"Er, name another one."

"Emmeline Vance."

"Er-"

"Greta Catchlove. Prisha Patil. Arabella Goldstein."

"Okay, okay. I get it."

"You don't like me Potter. You like the idea of me."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"How could you like me? You don't even know me."

"I know you."

"You know that I'm smart and I can do the curse of the bat bogies."

"How am I meant to get to know you if you won't go out with me?"

"I won't go out with you because you're an arrogant berk with an ego the size of Hogsmede village. And because you're arrogant enough to think you know me when we've never even had a conversation."

"This is a conversation."

"This is you trapping me behind a Christmas tree because you decided my life would be better with you in it."

"Your life _would_ be better with me in it."

Lily sighed deeply.

"My life would be better if you stopped asking me out, stopped trying to flatter me like I'm some dull-witted bimbo, and stopped getting me stupid showy presents."

Potter hesitated.

"And would that… help you get through what you're going through right now?"

Lily's eyes narrowed.

"What am I going through right now?" she demanded. Surely Potter didn't _know _anything?

"All I know is, half the time you're your usual glorious, feisty self," (Lily resisted the temptation to poke out both of Potter's eyes at the word 'feisty') "and the other half you're trying to pretend you are. People who don't know you like I do are fooled, but I've been watching you a long time, Lily Evans, and I know that you're not okay. You just want everyone to think you are."

James Potter said all this in a calm and level voice, maintaining eye contact with the fairy in front of him. Lily was grateful he wasn't watching her. Her cheeks were flushed with either shame or anger, it was hard to tell which as they were both battling in her chest. When she was sure her voice wouldn't tremble Lily ground out,

"Is that an admission of stalking?"

Potter chuckled good-naturedly, still not looking at her. Then he sobered.

"What I want for Christmas, Red, is to make you happier."

"Then stay out of my life!" Lily snapped without thinking – her own autopilot response.

"If I did – if I gave you space – would that make your life easier right now?"

"Why do you care?" Lily asked suspiciously, not daring to place any hope behind his words.

"Because whether you believe it or not, Lily Evans, I like you. So, if it makes your life easier, then I will step out of it. For now."

Lily studied him under lowered brows.

"I don't believe you."

"Doesn't matter. You'll see."

Lily waited. Potter didn't move.

"I don't see you stepping out of my life."

"Not just yet. You're still sad, underneath that façade. I'll give you a bit longer, then we can get hot chocolate and go to bed."

Potter must have felt her glower without looking at her.

"Separately. Geez Evans, you've got a dirty mind."

"I'm not drinking hot chocolate with you," Lily said firmly.

"I'll get you a to-go cup. Now, do you mind? I'm trying to watch the fairies and decompress."

Lily gaped at him for a moment. He glanced sideways at her and grinned a cheeky grin. Then he turned his eyes frontwards and settled down, crossing his arms and closing his eyes again.

Lily swallowed, crossing her own arms for warmth, and grudgingly watching a fairy flutter in front of her nose.

Beside her, Potter reached into his pocket, eyes still closed. He took out a salamander, which curled gratefully into the heat of his palm. Potter reached over and, with the briefest glance, right into her eyes, he laid the little lizard on Lily's knee. Then he went back to his crossed arms, eyes closed position as if nothing had happened.

Lily looked down at the glowing reptile for a moment. It was glaring at the chilly air. Lily sighed and took it into her cupped hands. It curled up for her just like it had for Potter. Lily felt it vibrating with pleasure against her skin.

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but it was nice not to be alone.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," Lily muttered darkly.

"Cross my heart," Potter said softly, a small smile playing over his lips.

Lily hated that she believed him. Trusting Potter even an inch was a slippery slope.


	3. A Plateful of Potter at Christmas Lunch

A note on the story: The scenes before the start of Term Three are really more inter-connected one-shots, so I'm turning this into a prequel, hence the renaming of the story. The main story, which will be A Currency of Secrets, will start on the first Monday of Term Three in its own story. I'll post the first chapter of that story in about a week. I'll post the final chapter of this story before then.

Chapter Note: While lighthearted in parts, this chapter also deals with the serious topics of both cancer and moderate anxiety in Lily's parents.

A note on anxiety: I have based the experiences of Mrs Evans on two of my close relatives. Her triggers (perfectionism, confrontation, including loud, overbearing people) and her defences/symptoms (avoiding eye contact or certain topics, honesty replacing tact, and absent-mindedness – both as a purposeful coping strategy, and unintentionally at other times) are reminiscent of some of their experiences and coping strategies. I am in no way suggesting this is demonstrative of all people with anxiety, which varies greatly in its symptoms and severity. While there is some humour in this chapter, I am not suggesting that anxiety itself is humorous.

* * *

Christmas Lunch with a Plateful of Potter

* * *

**Saturday December 25, 1976**

\- Lily -

"Knight to E4," Mr Evans said, frowning at the chess board from where he was stretched out on the sofa.

"No! Don't you have eyes?" cried the little stone figure. "His queen will decapitate me!"

Mr Evans chuckled at the theatrics before giving in.

"Fine, pawn to E4."

"Oh sure, send the little guy…"

Mr Evans gave a hearty laugh, which turned into hacking cough. Lily jumped up to hand her father his glass of water. Mr Evans took a long drink, but his eyes were still twinkling with amusement.

"Don't you over-exert yourself, Dear," Mrs Evans called from the kitchen.

"Don't worry, Debbie, I'm fine," Mr Evans called back. He handed the glass back to Lily, still smiling.

"This was an excellent idea Lily. Sure beats reading my dozenth book this month." He caught sight of Lily's expression. "Not that books aren't wonderful, too."

"You might like it less when I beat you for, what is it, the third time?" Lily teased.

"Oh, bring it on! It's not like I'm the one who taught you chess and beat your socks off for years."

They turned their attention back to the game, Lily suppressing a grin behind her 'game-face'. Her father was trialling a combination of new medication and 'bed-rest', both of which were doctor prescribed. Having declared the sofa his new 'bed' Mr Evans spent most of his waking hours talking and joking with Lily now that she was home from the holidays. And learning wizard's chess. It was especially helpful that he could direct his chessmen while lying down, or Mrs Evans would never have allowed it.

Lily was delighted by the improvement in her father's condition. Last holidays he'd been weak and sick under the weight of his treatments, with not an ounce of energy left over. There had been none of his usual dad jokes or even spent time with his family. Those had been gloomy days.

The last week had been a ray of golden sunshine after a storm. Mr Evans wanted to know all of the things Lily had learned this year at Hogwarts, as well as firing question after question at her about the magical world. Lily was constantly jogging upstairs to grab one book or another, to show her father an illustration or read him a paragraph.

Petunia's absence, rather than being a dark cloud, was a breath of fresh air. Lily's sister would not have tolerated this talk of the wizarding world for long, let alone days on end. Not to mention that Petunia's sharp tongue easily upset Mrs Evans, who was quick to fluster or become nervous. Mostly it was unintentional, but Petunia seemed to step on her mother's triggers like a person playing hopscotch with landmines.

Instead, Mrs Evans and Lily had spent several glorious afternoons, while her father was napping, selecting a small live Christmas tree, decorating the house, and baking gingerbread. The mornings were filled with the cheesy Christmas carols that drove Petunia mad.

For the first time, Lily appreciated Vernon's existence, if only because he had provided a house for Petunia to move out into.

"Lily dear," her mother called from the kitchen, "can you help me with the chicken?"

"I'll get it," Mr Evans called back, tossing his blanket aside.

"No, Dad," Lily said quickly, jumping up.

"Don't you dare, Steven!" Mrs Evans retorted. "I'll tie you to that sofa if I have to. Save your energy for Christmas lunch!"

Lily passed the dining table, already laden with baked ham, three types of potatoes, and a rainbow array of vegetables.

"Oh good," Mrs Evans said when she saw Lily. "The stuffing's all fallen out of the chicken, and I need to stir the custard…"

Mrs Evans was standing at the stove, wooden spoon dripping a thin custard onto the floor, a slight tremor in her wrist. Lily pretended not to see her mother's nerves, which were beginning to show like threads poking out of an ageing carpet. Mrs Evans was so determined for this Christmas to be perfect. Any disasters, no matter how tiny, would increase her anxiety levels.

"No worries Mum," Lily said lightly, grabbing a spoon. "I'm an expert stuffing re-stuffer."

Ten minutes later (and one rescued custard), Lily and her parents were sitting down to Christmas lunch. No one commented on Petunia's empty chair.

"Goodness Debbie, this looks amazing," Mr Evans said, face still a bit drawn by the trek from living room to dining room.

"Lily spent all morning helping me," Mrs Evans said, patting Lily's hand affectionately. "I wanted everything to be extra special this year." Her smile was a little fragile.

"Oh come off it, Debs, I'm not dying anytime soon," Mr Evans attempted to joke.

"None of that talk today," Lily declared. "Who wants Brussel sprouts?"

"Me," her father announced with almost convincing enthusiasm. Like Lily, Mr Evans hated sprouts. It seemed that in her quest for perfection Mrs Evans had forgotten that Petunia was the only one who liked them.

Soon they were all tucking into their Christmas feast. Though their plates were piled high, they'd barely made a dent in the loaded platters weighing down the middle of the table.

"So which book will you read first?" Lily's father asked her. To her delight, most of Lily's Christmas presents had been books on Charms and magical creatures.

Lily was well into a description of the various horse-like magical creatures which were not, to her father's great interest, mythical, when the doorbell rang.

"Oh, I wonder who that could be," Mrs Evans twittered, hopping up to answer it. Mr Evans and Lily shared a glance and a raised eyebrow. Clearly Mrs Evans had been meddling again.

"Petunia!" came a delighted but not exactly surprised squeal from the front hall. Mr Evans shot his chair back a bit too quickly in his haste to get to his feet. His face paled but he turned an anticipatory smile in the direction of the hallway.

A moment later, Mrs Evans, beaming, was leading Petunia, _not_ beaming, into the dining room.

"Darling," Mr Evans said, smiling warmly at his daughter. "I'm so glad you could make it after all."

Petunia, lips pursed, nevertheless crossed the room to hug her father.

"Vernon made me come," Petunia said flatly as she took her seat opposite Lily.

"Well, that was nice of him," Mrs Evans said, smoothing things over in her usual way – by ignoring any unpleasantness.

"Yes, apparently he got a call from his mother, who got a call from _you_," Petunia glared at her mother, "who told her that it was _such a shame_ I couldn't come for lunch at least."

Mrs Evans was now rearranging the salt and pepper shakers with unsteady hands, avoiding Petunia's accusing stare.

"If you only came to be horrible," Lily snapped, temper rising, "you can leave again."

"Now girls," Mr Evans said, in his deep soothing voice, though his eyes were firm, "we're all together now. That's what matters. Petunia, try some ham, it's beautiful. Your mother and sister outdid themselves this year."

Petunia's expression soured as it always did when Lily received praise from her parents.

"And look, Tuney, I made you Brussel sprouts." Mrs Evans attempted to pass her the bowl of tiny cabbages.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mum? It's Petunia, not _Tuney_. I'm not six anymore. Last time you called me Tuney in front of Vernon I nearly died."

Mrs Evans' lip trembled, as did the bowl she was holding.

"Petunia." Her father's voice was firm. "Take the Brussel sprouts."

Petunia scowled but did as he asked.

"Well, now, isn't this nice?" Mrs Evans said softly, folding her hands in her lap and looking at the feast spread before them.

"Very nice," Petunia ground out.

They ate in tense silence for several minutes.

"So, how's Vernon's work going?" Mr Evans asked Petunia, breaking the quiet. "Busy, I hear."

"That's what Mother says," came the curt reply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lily frowned at Petunia across the table.

"Didn't you tell them?" Petunia said to her mother, who was now determinedly avoiding her daughter's eye by studying the curtains. "I got a lovely phone call from Mum in November, reminding me about Christmas lunch, but saying that Vernon should in no way feel pressured to come, seeing as he was always _so busy_."

"That's not exactly, I mean, I'm sure I didn't phrase it like that…" Mrs Evans was now staring at the tablecloth.

"Debbie?" Mr Evans asked, his voice soft but stern.

"Well, he's just so _loud _dear," Mrs Evans replied, meeting her husband's gaze. As usual Mrs Evans was becoming more honest and less tactful as her anxiety levels rose. "He just… monopolises the conversation. And Christmas is a time for _family_."

"Did it occur to you that one day Vernon might _be _family?" Petunia shot back, gripping her knife and fork harder than necessary.

Mrs Evans took a steadying breath, the hitch in it audible.

"I just wanted this year, _this year_, to be just us. Is that so wrong?"

Everyone, even Petunia, was silent for a moment. The air was heavy with the weight of what she wasn't saying – that this Christmas might be their father's last. This time Mr Evans did not attempt to joke it off.

"We should get out Monopoly again after lunch," Mrs Evans said a bit breathlessly, in an awkward attempt to smooth over the disquiet she'd caused. "It's been ages since we all played."

"I'm only here for lunch," Petunia said flatly.

"Oh." Mrs Evans' face fell. "That's alright dear."

"No it's not!" Lily said, voice rising. "Why can't you spend a few hours with your family at Christmas? Have you even been home since last holidays?"

"Have you?" Petunia shot back.

"I've been at school!"

"Oh your precious _school_. You've abandoned Mum and Dad just as surely as I have, Lily-witch!"

"Don't call me that!" Lily snapped.

"Why not? It's true isn't it? It's why Mum and Dad like you better, why you're the only one Mum wants to see when she's all worked up-"

"That's because you're the one who works her up!"

"Girls!" Mr Evans' rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was not to be argued with. Lily and Petunia sat glaring silently at each other. Mr Evans broke into a coughing fit for several long moments, before managing to gulp some water at last.

"Now," he continued, his voice hoarse, "neither your mother nor I have been _abandoned_. We're doing just fine without either of you coddling us."

"But how's Mum coping with driving you to all of your appointments?" Lily said, turning to her mother.

"I'm getting by, dear."

"But if Petunia just-"

"That's enough. We're not discussing this at Christmas lunch." Her father's tone was final.

Silence descended again. Lily ate four peas and mixed her mashed potato and gravy together. Petunia didn't touch her Brussel sprouts.

A sudden sharp rap at the back door made them all jerk their heads up. Lily, Petunia and Mr Evans glanced at the back door in surprise, while Mrs Evans said,

"Who could that be?" and went to answer the front door instead. Mr Evans glanced at his daughters.

"Don't look at me," said Petunia. "I don't live here."

"Lily, could you…" Mr Evans said, angling his head towards the back door. Lily shot Petunia a glare, which Petunia shot back, and went out into the hall.

Still fuming, Lily pulled open the back door. Then scowled.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

The part of Lily's brain that hadn't just turned a deeper shade of rage red, noted that James Potter was wearing a smart black muggle suit, well-tailored, with highly polished black shoes. It was the first time Lily had seen him in anything apart from school robes. His hair was still determinedly mussed at the back.

"Merry Christmas, Lily," Potter beamed at her, ignoring her steady glare.

"Don't call me Lily," she said automatically. Her eyes narrowed. "And how did you find out where I lived?"

Potter ignored her question.

"I came to give you your Christmas present."

"I don't want anything of yours, Potter," Lily said coldly, trying to close the door. Potter put his shiny shoe in the way.

"I wanted to give it to you at Hogsmede, and then I tried on that last Tuesday of term…"

Lily clenched her teeth, hoping to prevent her blush. She tried _not _to remember the evening they'd spent sitting around a Christmas tree in companionable silence, Potter determined to keep her grief at bay.

"And, of course, you couldn't just send it by owl," Lily said sarcastically.

"Well, it's a bit big." Potter tugged on a rope in his hand and a handsome white pony in a deep blue rug ambled amiably into view. Lily stared at it.

"You got me… a horse?"

"Yep, best filly from our yards. Her name's-"

"I don't want your horse, Potter." Lily's voice was firm even as her traitorous heart raced in excitement. She watched the horse – her horse – nibble the begonias.

"You told Greta you wanted a horse," Potter said, his cheeky grin faltering only for a moment.

"So now you're spying on me?"

"Hey, I couldn't help but overhear-"

"Potter, look around," Lily interrupted, crashing them both back to reality. "Where am I going to keep a horse?"

As though for the first time, Potter glanced around the small walled garden of the town house. His smile slipped again, but Potter rallied quickly.

"Well, that's alright. I'll keep her at my place. You can visit over the holidays and I'll teach you to ride." Potter grinned at her as though this were an excellent proposition.

"James Potter," Lily growled, crossing her arms. "I assure you, I will not be visiting _your place_ this holidays or any day in the rest of my life. Now, if you don't mind, my family is having lunch-"

"Who is it, dear?" Mrs Evans appeared at Lily's shoulder. Lily closed her eyes and took a slow breath. Her mother, ever hospitable, was about to be very predictable. And Potter was about to be very pleased.

"Oh, is this a friend of yours?"

"He is not a _friend_," Lily said, glaring at Potter, daring him to disagree.

"Ohhhh. I see. I didn't realise you were _involved _with anyone," Mrs Evans said, smiling mischievously at Lily. Potter grinned at Lily behind her mother's back.

"You have a very special daughter," Potter told Mrs Evans earnestly.

"No! Mum, he's-"

"Oh aren't you a darling. Come on in now, out of the cold." Mrs Evans ushered Potter inside. She took his overcoat, hanging it on a lampshade as if that were the most normal thing in the world, and led him towards the dining room.

"Will your horse be warm enough?" Mrs Evans asked, concerned.

"Her rug is magically heated," Potter assured her, as Lily hurried after them down the hall.

"Mum, can I just-"

But Mrs Evans had pulled Potter into the dining room doorway, leaving no space for Lily to squeeze past.

"Oh, hello," came her father's voice, surprised but polite. "And who might you be?"

"He's a _wizard_," Mrs Evans whispered conspiratorially, retaking her seat.

"Oh, not another one," Petunia muttered.

Lily finally made it into the room. Potter was standing awkwardly near the door.

"Lily?" her father said, eyebrows raised. Lily sighed.

"This is James Potter, from Hogwarts. Potter, my mother, Debbie, my father, Steven, my sister, Petunia."

"James is Lily's _friend_," Mrs Evans told her husband with an obvious wink. Petunia looked up with slightly more interest, an evil glint in her eye.

"We're not friends," Lily said firmly. "And he's not staying."

"Nonsense," Mrs Evans said airily. "Take a seat, James. We've plenty of food."

Potter smiled smugly at Lily, taking the chair beside hers. Lily stood frozen for a moment. This was unbelievable.

"What happened to 'Christmas is a time for family'?" Petunia asked sharply.

"Well, James was already here, and he seems such a nice young man," Mrs Evans said, buttering bread for James. Her voice had become absent-minded, a sure sign she was flustered. "And really, we could use a change of atmosphere in here. It's not like anyone was enjoying themselves before."

Petunia gaped at their mother. Lily flushed with embarrassment, staring at her plate to avoid Potter's eyes. Mr Evans cleared his throat meaningfully. His wife glanced up at him, caught his eye, and fell silent.

"So, James," Mr Evans said, a bit more loudly than necessary. "You're at school with Lily?"

"Yes, Sir," Potter replied politely, meeting his steady gaze. "I have that great pleasure."

Lily rolled her eyes. Petunia scoffed softly and threw down her napkin.

"Excuse me for a moment." Petunia stood and left the room.

"What's your favourite thing about Hogwarts, dear?" Mrs Evans asked, passing him the gravy.

"Quidditch," Potter answered at once. The whole table stared at him.

"I beg your pardon, dear?"

Potter glanced around at the blank faces. "Er, Lily hasn't explained quidditch to you?"

"Quidditch isn't something that concerns us, Potter," Lily said firmly.

"Lily!" Mrs Evans was shocked. "Is that how we raised you to speak to people? We address people by their given names."

"No, Mum, at Hogwarts-"

"In this house," Mrs Evans interrupted, her gaze sharp, "we address people by heir given names. Apologise."

Lily sighed. In this mood, there was no point arguing with her mother. "Yes Mum. Sorry, James," she ground out.

Potter smiled broadly back. "No problems, Lily." She could hear the suppressed amusement in his voice. Potter had been trying to get Lily to call him James for years.

There was another awkward silence. Lily prayed neither of her parents would ask about quidditch. Potter would bore them all silly for hours.

"Why is there a _horse _in the back yard?" Petunia demanded from the hall, on her way back from the bathroom.

"It's Lily's," Potter said at once.

"It's Potter's," Lily shot back. Her mother cleared her throat pointedly. Lily sighed. "James'."

"I gave her to Lily for Christmas," Potter declared. "She said she wanted a horse."

"I hope you haven't been asking favours, Lily," her father said sternly. On the other side of the table, Petunia reluctantly retook her seat, looking at Potter with obvious dislike.

"No Mr Evans," Potter answered seriously, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Lily never asks me for anything at all."

"Except some peace," Lily muttered.

"I don't care whose horse it is," Petunia said sharply. "The neighbours will see!"

"It's a horse, not a dragon," Mr Evans said mildly.

"But they'll wonder how it _got _there!"

"Nah, muggles don't look with their eyes," Potter assured her, spouting an old wizarding platitude. The table went very still. Potter, realising his mistake, said hurriedly, "I mean, people who don't know better. Not you guys. People who-"

"Potter," Lily said darkly. "Shut up."

Petunia was glaring daggers at Potter.

"Besides," Mrs Evans said, recovering and keen to move the conversation along, "the horse isn't staying here, of course?"

"No," Lily said firmly. "Potter- _James_, is taking it with him."

"And Lily is coming to visit."

"No. I'm not."

Lily glared at Potter, who grinned back.

"Do you two, er, see a lot of each other at Hogwarts?" Mr Evans asked awkwardly, glancing between them.

"Not as much as I'd like," Potter said promptly, at the same time Lily growled,

"More than I'd like."

Neither reply was clear, so Mrs Evans did what she usually did, and ignored the unpleasantness.

"That's nice, dears."

Mr Evans cleared his throat.

"A horse if a very generous gift, James. One might say, _too _generous."

"Not really, Mr Evans. My family breeds horses."

"Horses are still expensive to raise, aren't they?" Mr Evans pressed.

"Not to worry, Mr Evans, my family can afford it."

Mr Evans blinked. Lily rolled her eyes. Petunia scowled.

Mr Evans cleared his throat again, trying a different tack.

"So, James, isn't your family missing you for their own Christmas celebration?" His voice was light but Lily hoped Potter would take the hint. Potter, however, was far too self-assured for that.

"No, Sir, my family celebrates on Christmas Eve. For us Christmas day is more about relaxing, breaking in our presents, that sort of thing."

"Well, we're happy to have you, dear," Mrs Evans assured him with a warm smile, failing to see Mr Evans' look. For Petunia, this was the limit.

"Oh _are _we?" she growled at her mother. "We can't have Vernon over, because he'll _monopolise the conversation_, but we're just stoked to hear all about horses and bloody _Hogwarts_ from James _flacking_ Potter!"

"Tuney!" Mrs Evans was shocked, Mr Evans furious. Lily however, ducked her head to hide her smile. How many times had _she _called him 'James flacking Potter'?

Lily realised Potter was trying to catch her eye, grinning at the shared joke. This sobered Lily immediately and she shot him a glare. Lily didn't want to share anything with James flacking Potter.

"Petunia Evans," Mr Evans growled. "Apologise to our guest."

"He's not _our guest_," Petunia retorted, rising from the table, "he's _Lily's_."

And Petunia stormed out of the room. A quiet descended in her wake. Mr Evans sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Are you alright dear?" Mrs Evans asked, concern clear in her voice. "Mr Evans is suffering from lung cancer," she confided to Potter, "so we try to make sure he doesn't over-exert-"

"I'm sorry about my eldest daughter," Mr Evans broke in, glancing meaningfully at his wife, but speaking to Potter. "She has a bit of a temper and things haven't been easy for her of late. Not that that is any excuse for her behaviour."

Potter struggled rather obviously for something to say. He was rescued by Mrs Evans, queen of the awkward segue.

"So, do you and Lily have the same classes?" she asked Potter as though merely continuing their conversation.

"Mostly," Potter answered, recovering quickly, "except for Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Dark Arts?" said Mr Evans. "Is that something we need to be concerned about?"

Potter glanced at Lily in surprise, and she gave him the tiniest shake of her head. Keeping her parents from unnecessary worry was one of Lily's goals in life. Neither of them coped well with stress at the moment.

"Er, not for most people," Potter said uneasily. Then, in true Potter style, stretched the truth to breaking point by covering it with a smaller truth. "Last year we studied dangerous magical creatures."

"Oh, like the werewolf?" Mr Evans said, merely curious now. Potter frowned.

"More like vampires and banshees."

"Banshees? Are they dangerous?"

And so the rest of the meal was taken up with Potter instructing her father in various dark magical creatures. Monopolising the conversation indeed, Lily thought uncharitably. Neither of her parents seemed game to mention Petunia, who still hadn't returned to the table.

"I'll be back in a minute," Lily said, as Potter answered yet another one of her father's endless questions.

No one acknowledged her. Lily pursed her lips and went to find Petunia.

Her sister was sitting at the kitchen table, poking at a piece of apple pie she'd cut for herself.

Lily had intended to start with something placating, but seeing Petunia eating their family Christmas pie without bothering to rejoin the family, stoked her temper.

"Getting started on dessert early, I see?" Lily said, taking a seat opposite her.

"Well I sure as hell wasn't going back in _there_." Petunia pointed to the dining room with her spoon.

They sat in tense silence for a minute. Both sisters stared determinedly away from each other, chewing their bottom lip in an attempt to keep their temper. Petunia sighed and pushed her pie around her bowl.

"You know what the worst part is?" Petunia said, lifting fiery eyes to Lily's.

"I only came here because I have news. But no one wants to hear a thing about _me_. Its all about Lily and her new wizard friend."

"He's not my friend," Lily snapped. "You know what Mum's like. He turned up unannounced and she just-"

Lily paused, frowning. "The _only _reason you came? Not to see your family for Christmas?"

Petunia sighed impatiently. "Don't be so dramatic. Do you even care what my news _is_?"

Lily crossed her arms and waited.

"I'm _engaged_," Petunia all but spat. Lily blinked in shock.

"To Vernon?"

"Of course to Vernon!"

Lily hesitated, not sure what to say. Was it too late to talk Petunia out of this?

"Your congratulations are overwhelming," Petunia said icily.

Lily took a deep breath and tried to put her anger aside. This was an important moment in how they would go forward as sisters.

"I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise. Congratulations. If you need help with anything-"

"I don't. I know how busy you are. We'll manage on our own, like usual."

Petunia stood up abruptly and stalked from the room.

"I'm leaving now," Lily heard her announce to the lunch table. Lily hurried back into the dining room.

"But we haven't even had dessert!" Mrs Evans protested, tears in her eyes.

"I have," Petunia said, "and you've got Lily and James Potter to share it with, anyway."

"Petunia," Mr Evans said firmly. Petunia paused. "Merry Christmas, darling."

Petunia's expression fell, softening for a moment. Ignoring all of them, Petunia crossed the room and hugged her father tightly.

"I'll come visit you Dad," she promised quietly.

"I look forward to it," he said, smiling at her.

Petunia turned, glared at the rest of them, and strode down the hall. They heard the front door slam shut behind her.

"I just don't know what that was all about!" Mrs Evans said, flustered.

"Petunia and Vernon are engaged," Lily told her parents wearily.

"Oh," said her mother.

"I see," said her father.

There was an awkward silence as her parent exchanged meaningful glances. There was no joy on their faces. Suddenly Lily was glad Petunia's news had been put off. She doubted very much that Petunia would have been pleased by her parents' reception.

"Well, I'll just clear away then, shall I?" Mrs Evans went to tip the peas in with the potatoes, but wasn't watching and missed. They rolled across the table and into Potter's lap.

"Oh, James! I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Mrs Evans," he said at once. "A few peas never hurt anyone." He got out of his chair to chase down a few that had rolled under the table.

"Mum, why don't you let me do that," Lily said quickly, as she went to put the carrots in the same dish as the cranberry sauce. Potter had re-emerged and Lily waited for him to smirk in amusement. She was sure there was some comment about carrots and jelly that she didn't want to hear. But Potter's face was sympathetic.

"Alright, I'll just clear the plates then." Mrs Evans grabbed her plate and Potter's, tipping the cutlery to the table by accident, gasping in shock, and promptly dropping his plate to the floor where it broke in two.

"Oh, I'm such a clutz!" Her voice trembled.

"Mrs Evans," Potter said, his voice kind, "why don't you let Lily and I clean up? You did such an excellent job with lunch."

"That's a good idea," Mr Evans said firmly. "Debbie, perhaps you could help me upstairs for a nap?"

Mrs Evans gave one final glance at the broken plate, then went to help her husband. Potter followed Lily into the kitchen with the stack of dinner plates.

Lily grabbed some plastic containers and began filling them with the leftovers. Potter continued to bring in dishes form the dining table, until the kitchen table was sagging beneath with them.

"Can I help?" Potter said, looking at the pile of dirty dishes.

"You could wash up," Lily said sarcastically as she searched for a container big enough to hold the half a chicken left over.

"Sure. I'll wash up."

Lily glanced over. Potter had yet to approach the sink. She sighed impatiently.

"Don't tell me you don't know how to wash up, Potter."

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged a little. It was the first time Lily had seen Potter looking helpless.

Lily crossed to the sink, dumped some detergent in, and ran the hot water. Potter joined her at the sink, watching the bubbles form with interest.

"This," she said patronisingly, "is a sponge. _This _is a dirty dish. They go in the water together and-"

Potter was leaning over to watch her scrub the plate, much closer than necessary. Lily narrowed her eyes.

"You get the idea." She stepped away. "Clean dishes go in the draining rack."

Lily turned back to the pile of leftovers on the table.

"It was nice meeting your family," Potter said over the chink of crockery.

Lily snorted. "What, no witty comments about how dysfunctional we all are?"

Potter turned to her, obviously shocked. "No. Of course not. I'm not a monster, Lily."

"Evans," she snapped back, at the end of her tether after today. Potter tutted irritatingly.

"Now Lily, your mother said not to use surnames in her house. And I wouldn't want to disrespect your mother. She might seem really nice on the outside, but she looks like she would be a tiger when riled."

"She is," Lily said, looking down at the left over Brussel sprouts. "Really nice, I mean. Today… wasn't a good day for her. For anyone, I guess."

"Yes, I gathered." Potter's face was once again kind. Lily glanced away sharply.

"You being here didn't exactly help matters, Potter. I don't know what makes you think you can just barge into my life-"

"Lily."

She paused.

"I didn't mean to be invited in, honest."

"Then why did you wear that ridiculous suit?"

"You think its ridiculous?" Potter looked at his collar uncertainly. Lily didn't reply. His suit looked fine, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

"I only wore it to impress you," he said. Lily still didn't look at him. He sighed. "Lily, I'm sorry if I made things worse by being here. I didn't realise what I was walking into, or I would have declined."

Lily scoffed, not sure if that made it better or worse.

"But to be frank, it looks to me like it was going downhill before I got here."

"Oh does it?" Lily looked up to glare at him. Potter was still facing the sink, scrubbing a large platter.

"But for my part," he continued, "I'm glad I came."

"Why, because you got to torment me outside of school?" Lily snapped, clipping a container closed with more force than necessary.

"No, because I got to understand you better."

"What, now you see why I'm dysfunctional?" she rounded on him.

"No." He turned to look right into her eyes. Lily looked away. "I can see where you get your determination from, your courage. And your kindness."

Lily still didn't meet his eyes, but she said, with the slightest of smiles,

"Well I obviously don't get _that_ from Petunia."

Potter chuckled, trying to catch her eye.

"No, but your fiery temper clearly runs in the family. And apparently your style of insults is genetic."

"Don't think you know me, Potter," Lily said softly, looking down at the table. "This glimpse into my life that you think you've had, I didn't give you permission to look."

Potter stared at her as though he was going to say more, but Lily cut in first.

"And I don't want to hear that you've been discussing my private life with anyone else. Clear?"

"Of course, Lily, I would never-"

"Right. Well, if you've finished the dishes," Lily said briskly, "I think it's time you left."

Lily slapped a plastic container into his hand.

"What's this?"

"Pie," she said shortly.

"Awww, Lily, I didn't know you cared."

"I don't. My mother would be very upset if we didn't send you home with dessert."

"Right. Well I wouldn't want to offend your mother." Potter glanced up the hallway. "Should I say goodbye?"

"They're both upstairs. I think its best if you just leave."

"Right."

Lily walked Potter to the back door. He turned to her.

"Merry Christmas, Lily Evans."

"Bye Potter."

With a final smile, Potter slipped out of the door and Lily locked it behind him. Through the window in the door she saw him say something. There was a crack like a whip and a house elf in a royal blue pillow case appeared. A moment later, with another crack, Potter, the pony, and the elf disappeared.

Lily sighed deeply and turned back to face her silent house. And so ended another Evans family Christmas.

\- Sirius -

Sirius Black was stretched out on the leather sofa in the Potters' den, his feet facing the fireplace, one hand behind his head, reading a muggle motorcycle magazine. He looked up as James appeared in the room.

"Finally." Sirius tossed the magazine aside. "You've been gone so long I thought she'd done away with you. That, or done something else with you." Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Neither," James said heavily, plopping down heavily. "I got invited for lunch."

"_Lily Evans _invited you for Christmas lunch?" Sirius said in disbelief.

"No, her mother did."

"Lily Evans' mother likes you?" Sirius demanded, sitting further forward on his seat.

"Not exactly. What did she say…?" James paused, trying to remember. 'We could use the change in atmosphere.'"

"What does that mean?"

James opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again. "Not really sure," he said dismissively instead. Sirius could tell this wasn't the whole truth, but before he could push, James said,

"Do you want some pie?" and Sirius' attention was diverted.

"So…" Sirius said around a large mouthful. The boys were digging it out with their fingers. "Tell me everything. What's Evans' family like?"

James hesitated. Then he shrugged.

"Not much to tell. We had ham and chicken and Lily taught me to 'wash up'."

"What's that?"

"Sirius Black, don't you know anything?"

Sirius punched him in the arm.

"It's kind of like washing your hands, but you wash plates and stuff instead."

"So, like _vanishing stuff_, but more annoying."

"Yeah, for people who can't _vanish stuff_ because they don't have magic," James said sardonically.

"Oh. Sounds boring."

"Nothing's boring around Lily."

"You," said Sirius, digging out more pie, "are so whipped."

James shrugged and stole the container back. "Perhaps, but I'm also the one who's eating the last of the pie."

"Hey give me that!" Sirius leapt on James and they both tumbled to the floor. The pie fell out of its container and splattered onto the rug.

"You are an idiot," Sirius said wistfully, staring at the sad remainders of the pie.

"Yeah, so you and Evans tell me."

"Only because it's the truth, mate."


	4. Nuisances and Nifflers

Author's Note: So, it turns out there might be another chapter to the prequel, a Sirius chapter, later in the week. That's also when I'll post the first chapter of A Currency of Secrets.

* * *

Nuisances and Nifflers

* * *

**Tuesday January 4, 1977**

\- Lily -

The second week of Lily's Christmas holidays had not been nearly as much fun as the first. Her father had been drained both by Christmas day and Petunia's two visits later in the week. The first visit hadn't lasted long. Petunia had told her parents of her engagement. Seeing their lack of surprise, and their unconvincing joy, Petunia had vented her anger on Lily, furious she had spoiled her news.

"Well, its not like you said it was a secret," Lily had retorted. And with that, Petunia had left.

Her second visit had been longer and slightly more pleasant, though still a bit tense. Lily's mother had been a bit frayed around the seams by the end of the week, and her father's face was permanently grey with exhaustion. It was almost a relief to head back to Hogwarts, although Lily's departure had been a teary one all round.

Now Lily stood looking up at the castle through a light drizzle. Lily had been rostered on to 'train-checking' duty with two other prefects, responsible for ensuring no one was left in any of the compartments. Parkinson and Edgecomb had left together after a brief stroll down the train, leaving Lily to complete a thorough search alone. Now she stood in the doorway of the last compartment, reluctantly gathering herself to jog through the rain to the waiting carriages.

The door on the last carriage swung open invitingly. Lily smiled. Good old Greta. Covering her head with her hands, Lily sprinted through the rain, mud slapping her legs as she ran, finally making it into the shelter of the dry carriage. The door snicked shut behind her and the caravan of carriages began their slow jolting progress up the road.

"A bit bedraggled, but you make it work," said a male voice appreciatively – definitely not Greta. Lily's eyes focused on the other inhabitant of the gloomy interior.

"Potter," she growled. "I should have known."

James Potter was sitting across from her, robes and messy hair magically dry, while Lily's black robes stuck to her body, her red hair hanging in wet, unappealing strings. How come Potter never looked as human as everyone else?

"Look, I'm not here to upset you," Potter began.

"Just you stay on your side of the carriage then," Lily said firmly, crossing her arms over her wet blouse.

"And nothing untoward, either," Potter added quickly, his face a bit hurt by the idea. "I just wanted to know how the rest of your holidays went."

'The rest of her holidays', because Potter had turned up at her house uninvited and crashed her family's dysfunctional Christmas lunch.

"I'd say 'none of your business' but you don't seem to know the meaning of the words," Lily snarled, using her wand to begin drying her clothes.

"And, Potter," she added, glaring, "make sure you don't go blabbing about my family to anyone else."

"Hey, Come on, Red, I promised. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"I don't know. Does it?" she shot back.

"I'm a man of my word," Potter said, a hand over his heart. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Oh are you? Didn't you say last term you were going to leave me alone?" Lily said.

"Well, I also said, 'if it makes your life easier.' And, to be frank, it seems like what you need now is a friend."

"A friend?" Lily scoffed. "Since when has James Potter wanted to be my friend? Shag-buddy sure. But _friend_?"

"Shag-buddy?" Potter said, his cheeks colouring and eyebrows rising. He seemed shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth. And more than a little pleased.

"Oh, get over it, Potter. Hell will freeze over before then."

"So… you're saying there's a chance?"

"No, Potter. I will never, in any way, ever be pleased to see you."

"Oh. So back to my plan, then," Potter said, returning to his business-like tone.

"Your _plan_?" Lily narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes. The 'cheer up Evans' plan."

"Oh, Heavens no." Lily leaned her head back against the seat and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Make it stop."

"No, you'll like this, Red. See, you're going through a hard time right now,"

"Thanks for reminding me," Lily muttered.

"And what you need is a friend who will put some joy into your life."

"So, anyone but you, then."

"And it just so happens," Potter said, ignoring her, "that I am the king of joy-making."

"That's either a jingle for a toy company or something a lot more adult," Lily said, still not looking at Potter. Potter snorted appreciatively.

"Oh, definitely the latter. I must say, I'm liking the new you."

"The new me?" Lily demanded, opening her eyes to glare at him. "Potter, this is me at the end of my tether with you, with my family, and with the world. Is _that_ the me that you like?"

"Well… no." Potter faltered, before he recovered, in true Potter style. "No, but see, that's why I'm going to be cheering you up."

"Potter," Lily sighed, closing her eyes again. Maybe if she couldn't see him… "What I really want from you is not to hear your voice for the rest of the term. _That _would cheer me up. It might even make me hate you a bit less."

There was an unnatural silence. Lily opened her eyes warily. Since when did Potter lack a witty comeback? What she saw made her pause for a moment. James Potter was clearly considering her words, a small frown on his face. When he saw her looking, Potter gave her a tentative smile. This was downright odd.

"_What_, Potter?" Lily snapped, nerves adding sharpness to her voice.

"You're saying that if I leave you alone for this term, you won't hate me next term?"

Lily frowned. "Not exactly," she said carefully. One had to be very careful what was promised to James Potter. "I'm saying I hate you now, and I hate you more every time you open your mouth around me. So maybe if you closed your mouth, things might improve."

"Things between us," Potter clarified, gesturing to the space between them.

"There is no us," Lily said sharply. She wasn't sure if this conversation was going very well or very badly.

"But, there's a chance, maybe a small one," he added quickly, catching sight of her face, "that we could like, have a conversation next term?"

"There's a chance," Lily said, her voice firm – unsure if she was agreeing with him or stopping him short. "But only if you leave me alone _all _term."

Surely this couldn't work?

"Hmmm…" said Potter, overdramatising his thinking face. "That's a pretty big gamble for me to take, if its only 'a chance'."

"Yeah, well how's this for odds?" Lily said, flaring up as she watched her Potter-free term slipping away. "If you don't leave me alone, it's a _certainty_ that we'll never be more than sparring partners. And, if you actually cared for me at all, maybe you'd consider the fact that this is what_** I **_want, rather than only thinking about what _you_ want all the time!"

"Hey, I do care!" Potter protested. "That's why I want to make you feel better."

"So now I've told you how to do that. Ball's in your court." Lily crossed her arms again, her face immovable, but her heart tapping out a hopeful rhythm. Was it possible?

There was another odd silence. It was so strange to hear Potter _thinking_.

"Alright, Evans," he said at last. "But I want this to be considered an act of love. I'm proving to you that I care by giving you the space you asked for."

"It's called 'respecting my wishes', Potter. And I've yet to see you prove anything."

"Well, you just wait. I said James Potter is a man of his word, and I meant it." With a final grin, Potter grabbed the door handle and let himself out of the carriage. It was slowing down but by no means stopped as he swung to the ground. Lily sat for a moment in the carriage, still not entirely sure the conversation had actually happened. Outside, the rain had stopped.

"You coming, Red?" Potter was holding the door open for her, frozen in a chivalrous bow. In what must have been the work of only a moment, he'd transformed his black school cloak into red velvet trimmed with white fur. _This _did not bode well.

"I thought you were leaving me alone?" Lily snapped, not moving from her seat.

"Term doesn't start until tomorrow," Potter told her with a cheeky grin. "Officially."

Lily rolled her eyes heavenward. She looked back to Potter.

"What's this getup for, then?"

Potter winked. "You'll see."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Not once have you said 'you'll see' and I've been pleased."

"Always a first time," Potter said cheerfully. "Or are you staying in the carriage all day?"

Lily sighed and deigned to descend. Potter rose from his bow and shut the door behind her. Lily was looking up at the castle. The front steps were clogged with a queue of students.

"What's going on, Potter?" Lily said, hands on hips. Potter linked an arm through her elbow.

"Allow me to show you, my Lady." Potter smoothly transformed Lily's cloak into purple velvet rimmed with gold.

"Potter," she growled, pulling away from him.

"You can either enter as the guest of a Prince of Hogwarts, or join the queue," Potter pointed out, gesturing to where most of the school was lined up around the side of the castle.

"_Prince of Hogwarts_," Lily scoffed. "You guys actually call _yourselves_ that?"

"Well, our loyal subjects may have dubbed us thus, but who are we to shun their choice?"

"You are conceited beyond belief," Lily muttered, still weighing her options. Standing around in the cool January air didn't sound appealing, even if the rain had let up.

Potter offered her his arm again. Lily, feeling ridiculous in her velvet cloak, strode towards the steps without touching him. Potter hurried to keep up.

"Excuse me, VIPs coming through," Potter called. Lily expected glares and indignance. Instead the crowd parted smoothly, a couple bowing in jest. Potter nodded nobly back, spoiling the majesty with a wink or two.

They reached the top of the steps. Remus and Black, similarly attired, stood flanking either side of the oak front doors. Black gave them a gallant bow, though he shot Potter a mischievous grin as he rose. Remus gave Lily an apologetic look.

Lily peered through the open doors. The floor of the hall seemed to have been turned to glass. She took a tentative step nearer the threshold. To the left of the marble staircase, completely blocking the passageway to the Slytherin dungeons, was a glittering translucent palace, easily three storeys high, spearing for the ceiling of the Entrance Hall. Lily felt her jaw drop. Windows, arches, turrets, even a frozen fountain – it was absolutely stunning.

Lily went to take another step when Potter coughed meaningfully. She nearly jumped when a voice to her left recited drolly, "Watch your step, milady, the ice is slippery."

Pettigrew was dressed as a court jester, and he didn't seem too happy about.

"If you'll allow me," Potter said, pointing his wand at her shoes without waiting for permission. Lily was once again wearing ice skates.

"Potter!" she snapped. "You are unbelievable. What, last term I wouldn't skate with you, so now you haven't given me a choice?"

Potter looked a bit taken aback. "Of course you have a choice. I just thought you might like help to explore our amazing ice palace. Or," he amended, seeing her scowl deepen, "just to get to the staircase?"

"I shouldn't _need _help to get into the castle," Lily snapped. "You had no right to take away access through the Entrance Hall. I can't believe you did all this just to get me to hold your hand!"

"Well, we didn't exactly take it _away_," Potter said. Even as he spoken, Remus and Black helpfully transfigured skates for a pair of third years who gleefully sailed out onto the ice, velvet cloaks streaming out behind them. A couple of Ravenclaws went next, followed by a steady stream of people, all smiling and then staring at the ice palace in awe. The third years were already entering the first archway.

"And, as much as I'd do anything for you, Lady Lily," Potter said, bowing again, perfectly balanced in his skates, "this time it wasn't just for you. Other people heard about our frozen corridor and were disappointed they didn't get to try it."

"Yeah, because you nearly killed someone," Lily said.

"Well, we learned our lesson. Pettigrew here," Potter leaned past Lily to clap him on the shoulder, "will warn people about the ice, and even Dumbledore gave us permission."

"You got permission?" Lily asked, shocked. Since when did the Princes of Hogwarts ask permission?

"Of course," Potter said, gesturing to the top of the staircase. "No point going to all this trouble to have it shut down after five minutes."

Lily glanced at the top of the staircase. Professor Dumbledore stood there, eyes twinkling as he surveyed the students swirling and gliding across the Entrance Hall. Professor McGonagall stood beside him, lips pressed in a thin line, looking far less enthused.

"So, are you going to let me assist you, Lady Lily?"

"Don't call me that. And no. I don't want your assistance today or ever, Potter."

Potter looked a bit hurt. Lily ignored this, and peered around the room. Surely there was a way into the school without crossing the slippery ice? And indeed, there was. A pathway of bare flagstones stretched to the right of the doors, hugging the wall until it met the Great Hall. Lily waved away her skates with her wand and stepped toward the path.

"Ah, I wouldn't if I were you," Potter said, his voice serious but an amused gleam in his eye.

"And why not?" Lily growled, sick of Potter. _When _was he going to leave her alone, again?

Potter just pointed to a sign hung on the wall. It read, _For old Fuddy-duddies only_. Lily rolled her eyes.

"So what, I get insulted by a sign. Big deal."

Potter shrugged in defeat and stepped out onto the ice to follow her progress. Lily, stonily ignoring Potter as he made lazy graceful circles beside her path, strode towards the Great Hall and, hopefully, peace. She was halfway there when there was a bang. Smoke engulfed her for a moment. Lily blinked. When the smoke cleared, she looked down. Lily now had a long white beard, fluffy white hair and… Lily's eyes widened. Her chest had sagged alarmingly.

"I did try to warn you," Potter said, struggling to keep a straight face. Lily turned a furious scowl on him.

"Potter, you are intolerable," she began, but stopped with wide eyes. Her voice was croaky and crochety.

"Now really, Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall said from the top of the stairs. "This is hardly acceptable."

"I'm assured the spell is temporary," Dumbledore said mildly. "It should wear off in a minute or two, Miss Evans," he called down to Lily with a smile. Lily frowned, glared at Potter, and turned on her heel, pushing past the eager skaters and out onto the steps.

"Oh, looking good, Evans," Black called over the crowd, giving her a mocking bow.

"I'm sorry Lily," Remus said as she passed him. "James did say he would warn you."

Lily ignored them both and strode down the stairs. The bottom step housed two glum bearded first years on one side, and a white-haired Vance, the seventh year Ravenclaw prefect, on the other. Vance was reading an Arithmancy textbook and seemed unconcerned by her new hairdo.

Lily, refusing to sit around waiting for Potter's prank to wear off, strode out across the grounds. While it was a bit brisk for a walk, Lily knew a place where she could be both warm and alone.

Professor Kettleburn, while no lover of people, had a deep affection for magical creatures. Apart from the topics of study, which were usually acquired as needed each term, he kept a small barn beyond the greenhouses for rescued creatures. Lily had been volunteering there since third year.

After a trek across the breezy grounds, it was a relief to reach the warmth inside the barn. Lily closed the side-door behind her, and turned to survey the stalls lining the edges of the huge room. The stall nearest the door housed a permanent family of kneazles, purring and climbing over one another. The next one had a new addition - a small spiky knarl. The hedgehog-like creatures were often dug out of their burrows in the harsher months as other animals foraged for food.

On the opposite side of the barn, a golden hippogriff eyed Lily disdainfully, before returning its attention to the dead rats in the corner of its stall.

A noise at the far end of the barn caught Lily's attention. The nifflers, who were less likely to choose to escape if kept in a darker environment (as there was less light to reflect off shiny things), were snuffling rather loudly. Lily strode into the gloomier part of the barn and stopped abruptly. Having just dealt with one Black, she was hardly in the mood to deal with another.

Andromeda Black, face only slightly less sharp than her sister's, gazed haughtily back. She was standing next to the stall door, hand hanging lazily over the door of the nifflers' stall.

"What happened to _you_?" Black sneered, looking Lily up and down.

"Your cousin and Potter happened to me," Lily snapped back, pulling on her flowing beard self-consciously. But that wasn't the point.

"What are you doing here?" Lily demanded, trying to work out how to reach her wand subtly. Andy might be more like Sirius than Bellatrix, but Lily still didn't trust her.

Black tossed her dark chin-length hair out of her eyes with a disdainful smirk.

"I'm just entertaining some nifflers,"

Lily frowned and crossed to the stall door, more concerned for the nifflers' safety than her own. Andy's wand was in her hand. Lily feared the worst for a moment, before she saw a small coin of light projected from the end of the wand like a torch beam. The nifflers were almost digging up the floorboards in an attempt to both possess the shiny thing and prevent the other nifflers from getting it.

"Relax, _Prefect Evans_," Black sneered, "I'm not hurting them."

"Why are they so worked up, then?" Lily snapped. Indeed, all of the nifflers were out of breath, their little furry chests heaving.

"Well," said Black, as though considering. She sounded so much like Sirius when he answered a teacher's question that Lily wanted to punch her. "I can't let them catch it too often. That would get boring."

With a smirk at Lily, Black began flicking the light from one side of the stall to the other, up the low walls and down again. The nifflers followed in a gambolling black wave, climbing over each other and up the wall to try to catch it.

"Stop it!" Lily said, shocked.

"Why?" Black said, frowning. "What harm is it doing?"

Lily hesitated. The wandlight had gone out and the nifflers paused, out of breath yes, but a dozen sets of little yellow eyes were watching Black expectantly. Their noses twitched in synchronisation as the wand swayed. They did seem to be enjoying the game. Black arched an eyebrow at Lily.

"You'll tire them out," Lily said, "or they'll injure themselves, climbing the walls like that."

Black rolled her eyes. "You just don't want anyone else playing with your precious pets. And people call _me _selfish."

Black relit her wand with a flick, casting wide circles first one way, then the other, on the stall floor. The nifflers bowled each other over in their attempts to keep up with it. Black barked a laugh as one was thrown into the wall.

"Stop it!" Lily said again, as it shook its head and leapt back into the fray. "You're a bully!"

"Ho!" Black said with an unpleasant laugh. "How you wound me, Evans. Just because _you _can't take a joke…"

"A joke?" Lily said hotly. "You and Sirius and Potter prank and hex anyone you want, just because you can. You don't care about anyone else's feelings except each others'!"

"Oh don't I?" Black said, flicking off her wand and turning to face Lily squarely. "And you, _Saint _Evans, you care about other people, do you?"

Lily hesitated, eying Black warily. Where was this going?

"Oh, don't act all confused, Lily Evans. I've seen you sparring with Potter, hurling insults and tossing your hair like a real little prima donna. Since when do you care about wounding anyone who gets in _your _way?"

"_James flacking Potter_?" Lily snapped, close to really losing her cool now. "_That's _who you're going to throw in my face? After everything he does to _me_, Potter is lucky I don't hex him right out of Hogwarts."

"'_After everything he's done to me'_," Black mimicked, hands on her hips in an impression of Lily. "Just what has he done to you, you poisonous little prefect? What, he's given you presents and asked you out, and for that he deserves your scorn? He deserves you jumping on his heart every time he offers it up to you?"

"Aren't you just a soppy little Potter-advocate," Lily snarled back. "Tell me, does he _know_ you go around defending his honour? Do you think he'd _appreciate_ your efforts?"

To Lily's great satisfaction, Black's sneer slipped a bit.

"That's what I thought," Lily said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "So why don't you lay off me and I won't tell him what you've been saying behind his back. I know how he'd hate everyone to hear how _heartbroken _he is, or pretends to be, more like."

"Yeah, and you say I think _I'm _the only one with feelings," Black scoffed, turning back to the nifflers. "Take a look in the mirror next time, Evans."

"What's all this?" demanded Professor Kettleburn, appearing from the small room in the back corner of the barn. "Black?" he said frowning as he saw her. "You don't have permission to be in here."

Black tossed Lily a final sneer. "Just leaving, Sir." The insubordination dripped off her voice, even without the Sirius-like salute she threw his way. Black strode out of the barn as if she owned it. The nifflers climbed on top of each other, the ones on top watching her leave over the top of the stall door, faces sad. Professor Kettleburn frowned at them, his eyes concerned.

"They don't like these dark winters," he told Lily, glancing over their tufty bodies. "Try lighting your wand and bouncing the light around the stall. They like that."

Lily grit her teeth. "But I won't over-exert them," she said, as he turned to leave.

"What's that? Oh, they're hardy little critters. Pretty hard to hurt them." Lily scowled to herself as he shut himself back in his office. The nifflers were overjoyed when Lily lit her wand, crisscrossing the floor more sedately than Black had done.

Stupid Black, Lily fumed. Fancy calling _her _out for selfishness. Though, Lily thought for a moment, it was odd that Potter was continuing his 'heartbroken' act with his close friends. Lily quickly pushed the thought aside. It wasn't like Andromeda Black was one of James Potters dearest buddies. She'd only started hanging out with Sirius and Potter at the start of the year. She was probably just falling for his BS like everyone else.


	5. A Very Sirius Day

Author's note: Final chapter in this story! And A Currency of Secrets chapter one is up! (It might take a while to come through though, it can take a few hours for a new story to show up).

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**A Very Sirius Day**

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**Saturday February 12, 1977**

\- Sirius -

Zonko's Joke Shop was crowded with students restocking on dungbombs, stink pellets and sugar quills. The Marauders were by the back wall, examining the array of Dr Filibuster's fireworks.

"I think we really need more Catherine wheels," James was saying, picking up three boxes. "They cause so much more havoc than the rockets."

"But the rockers are easier to aim," Remus insisted, grabbing a pair of them.

"I like the Sparklers," Peter said, pointing to the wands that glowed and sparked.

"Sparklers are boring," Sirius said. Peter frowned but James and Remus had already turned back to the display.

Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets. His friends hadn't noticed he was empty handed yet, but they would soon. Sirius always bought more Zonko's products than any of them, but today he wouldn't be leaving with anything. In an attempt to get him to return home, his mother had cut his allowance – down to zero. Sirius didn't have two sickles to rub together, and he didn't want his friends to know.

"I need a pick me up," Sirius declared. "I'll meet you at the pub."

Remus turned around in surprise, but Sirius was already at the door. James was still immersed in the wall of pyrotechnics and didn't notice.

Sirius slipped out into the windy February morning. Not relishing the cold air, he quickly ducked into the Three Broomsticks. The bell rang overhead, turning the heads of the students crammed into booths towards him. Sirius gave a single upbeat wave to a table of seventh year Ravenclaw boys, jerked his chin in greeting at some fifth year Gryffindors, and caught sight of a booth of Hufflepuff girls by the far windows. Some rather fetching Hufflepuffs.

Sauntering casually through the bar, Sirius approached their table. Two blondes, a strawberry blonde and a brunette. Sirius decided it was definitely worth casting a line. A bit of flirting followed by a snog sounded right up his alley this morning. A pick me up indeed.

Sirius pulled over a chair from the table next door, flipped it around, and sat backwards on it at the end of their booth. The girls all turned to face him, wearing comically different expressions to one another. To his right the ringleted blonde was looking at him with wide eyes, biting her lip. A pouty little frog. Beside her, next to the window, was the brunette, who was curious, perhaps even mildly interested, but trying not to show it. A wild horse, Sirius decided, flighty but likely an exciting ride.

To his left, the strawberry blonde was glaring at him under sharp brows. An angry hawk. And finally, to her left, a wavy blonde, her expression mild but her eyes flashing at him knowingly. Oh smart, without a doubt, but there was a 'back off' vibe – a lioness dozing with one eye open. Poke at your own risk.

Quite a few challenges to choose from. Sirius discarded the frog girl, but was still deciding between the hawk and the horse when the hawk spoke.

"Are you lost, Black?"

"I was looking for the table of prettiest girls in the place, so I think I'm right on target." Sirius gave the hawk a wink.

"Seriously?" said the lion, her voice as mild as her face, but her eyes had hardened. Definitely a no go there.

"Sirius-ly Black, black-hearted rogue and dashing Prince of Hogwarts, at your service." Sirius tipped an imaginary hat to her, but his eyes were on the strawberry blonde hawk.

"And what might your name be, beautiful?"

The hawk's brows lowered even further, meeting above her nose. "I don't believe you! Sirius Black, you are the most self-centred prat in the world."

Sirius blinked. "That's not the usual answer," he said, voice still smooth as his brain whirred. Something had gone wrong here, but what could it-

"It _is_ the answer when you snogged the girl you're asking last month."

"Oh." Sirius wracked his brain. "Marissa!"

Her glare didn't abate.

"Susan?"

"Those are sixths years, you flacking idiot."

"Oh, and you are…?"

"Fifth years," the lion purred, smiling with rather a lot of teeth showing.

"Right, of _course_," said Sirius. "Sorry, Mara, I forgot."

"_She's _Mara!" cried the hawk, pointing to the frog, who now looked close to tears, her bottom lip trembling.

Sirius stared at her. He knew he's snogged a Mara last week, but this girl just didn't seem his type.

"Are you sure?" he said, frowning.

"Yes!" The hawk's voice was becoming shrill. "Because you were snogging _her _in the classroom where you said you'd meet _me_!"

"Ah, yes, I remember now," said Sirius, as it all came back to him. The frog had approached Sirius while he was waiting for a tutoring session with another girl, apparently the hawk. It was meant to be a quick snog but the frog had been surprisingly good. He'd just been setting up another lesson with her for later in the week when he'd heard the door open and shut behind him. _That _must have been the hawk walking in on them. But he'd been sure _her _name had been-

"And you're _sure_ you're not Mara?"

The hawk stood up, slapped Sirius, and strode off. The frog jumped to her feet and scurried after her, sobbing. Sirius shook away the sting of the slap like a dog drying its ears. Then he turned back to the pair of Hufflepuff girls in front of him. Love the ones you're with, he told himself: a tried and true Sirius Black motto.

"Her name's Jasmine, by the way," the lion informed him. Ah, yes, little Miss Applebee, Sirius recalled her now. Few natural talents but a surprisingly dedicated student.

"And what are the names of the two loveliest girls at the table?" Sirius said, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows invitingly. He sent most of his smouldering gaze at the horse. The lion might be doable, but she would take more than a morning's effort, that was for sure.

Indeed, the lion raised a single sharp eyebrow back at him.

"Haven't you snogged and dropped enough Hufflepuffs for one term?"

"Hey, they liked the snogging and I never promised there wouldn't be any dropping involved. I'm Sirius Black not bloody Edgar Bones. If they wanted a steady boyfriend, they were barking up the wrong tree."

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special," the lion said archly.

"Well now, actually, that _is _one of my specialties," Sirius said, turning back to the horse. "May I join you, beautiful?"

The horse flicked a wary glance at the lion, but gave Sirius a tentative smile. Sirius, needing no more encouragement, slid into the booth beside her.

"So what's your name, gorgeous girl?"

"Fletchley. Christina. Christy. Christy Fletchley."

So far so good: a little flustered, a little shy, but still smiling underneath it all.

"Oh no," said the lion from the other side of the table. She'd rolled her eyes skyward. "Is none of Hufflepuff House safe from the charms of Sirius black-hearted Black?"

"The sarcastic one is Amelia Bones," Christy told Sirius, in a confidential tone from behind her hand. Then she giggled. Oh, Sirius would have _this_ wrapped up by lunchtime.

"Its alright, Bones," Sirius told her, his eyes still on Christy's wide brown gaze. "I only go after the pretty ones. You're safe."

Christy tried to smile at the compliment and frown at the insult at the same time. The result was that her lips pursed adorably. He wondered how those lips would taste.

"Christy," the lion said, her voice firm. "How are you going to feel if you kiss him this morning and walk in on him with another girl this afternoon?"

"Shhh," Sirius said softly, reaching out to take Christy's hand in both of his. "This lovely little lady is the only woman on my mind right now."

"It's the 'right now' that bothers me," Bones said, clearly disgusted.

"I'm a big girl, Amelia," Christy said, shooting her a warning look. "I'm not signing my life away."

"And no one's making you stay, Bones," Sirius added_, his voice still low and hushed._

"Fine, but if I catch you out of bounds again, Black, I'll give you a double detention this time."

Sirius broke eye contact with Christy. "Again? Hey, yeah!" The memory struck him. "It was _you _who walked in on me at the top of the Astronomy Tower." Sirius snapped his fingers as he finally placed her. Amelia Bones, the Hufflepuff prefect, _ Edgar's younger sister. "Though what else you _expected _to find up there, I don't know. Everyone knows it's the official make out spot, it was kind of a low blow if you ask me."

"Oh really?" said Bones, hands on her hips. "Well, if I catch you up there again, I'll ask McGonagall what she thinks, whether the prefects shouldn't patrol up there because its _unfair _to your romantic prospects. And don't blame me if she gives you a worse punishment than I do."

Sirius groaned. "Don't ask McGonagall, she doesn't look like she's had a good time in the last decade."

Bones just glared at him.

"Well, if that's all," Sirius said, turning his back on her, "Christy and I have some getting to know each other to do. Try not to poke your nose where it doesn't belong again, Bones."

"Try not to drop Christy before dinner," Bones replied. "She might look all tough on the outside, but she's a soft-hearted girl underneath." Christy made an indignant sound in the back of her throat. Bones shot her a surprisingly warm glance. "Just looking out for you Hun, you know its going to happen. And Black? I'm on patrol duty tonight, so if you're out late, with or without a honey, you can bet your third sock I'll dock fifty points off you. Heaven knows Hufflepuff could do with a shot at the house cup this year."

And with that, Amelia Bones got to her feet and sauntered out of the pub. Sirius watched her go. There was a prowl about the swaying of her hips that was indeed reminiscent of a lioness. Christy had to say Sirius' name twice to get his attention back. When Sirius met that liquid brown gaze, his throat tightened a bit. There was a drop of hurt swimming in her eyes already. Bones was right, this was no Susan Summerby. This girl would cry over him before the end of the term.

Sirius hesitated for a moment, then pushed the thought aside. Christina Flethley had a brain, a voice, and a nice pair of legs she could use at any time to walk away. She'd had more firsthand experience of how he treated his tutoring students than most of his conquests, and she'd chosen to stay. Sirius Black was a ladies' man, not a girl's friend.

"Want to get out of here?" Sirius said, leaning in closer and spearing her with his smouldering gaze. Christy hesitated, eyes flicking to where Bones had sat a moment before. Sirius gave her a moment to weigh her options, then leaned in just a little further. "I know a place they serve the best hot chocolate," he whispered, so close now he caused a few of her brunette strands to flutter.

Christy made the mistake of turning her eyes to his face. Their faces were only inches apart, and Sirius' gaze was intense, intimate. Christina Fletchely didn't stand a chance against the full force of the Sirius Black charm.

Predictably, Christy blinked. She took a breath. Her eyes drifted down to his lips, then quickly back up to his eyes as he gave her a slow, meaningful smirk. Christy swallowed.

"I do like hot chocolate," she whispered back.

"Who doesn't love a good hot chocolate," Sirius purred. "Shall we?"

Christy hesitated for all of a moment. Sirius was already on his feet, holding out an inviting hand. Swallowing again, Christy placed her hand in his. And Sirius Black, turning to the door, allowed himself a small triumphant smile. Sirius Black, once again the victor over a woman's heart.

Sirius led Christy to Madam Pudifoot's, chose an intimate table in the corner, and ordered them both a hot chocolate and a plate of waffles to share. Christy's gaze kept fogging over as Sirius sent her a steady stream of smouldering looks and mischievous smiles, all the while rubbing lazy circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Christina Fletchley was falling hard for the Black charm.

The waffles had just arrived, drenched in chocolate sauce and slowly melting cream, when someone else entered the shop. Someone tall with a long dark ponytail and a piercing blue gaze. Someone McGonagall always sent to find Sirius Black when no one else could. The Ravenclaw seventh year prefect, Emmeline Vance. She was like a bloodhound.

Vance strolled through the café and stopped at Sirius' table.

"Black," she greeted him with a pleasant smile. "Fancy finding you here, of all places."

"Vance, I see you couldn't stay away," Sirius drawled, lifting an eyebrow suggestively.

"Actually I was sent to find you," Vance said, grabbing a waffle off the plate and biting into it with a satisfying crunch. "McGonagall wants a word."

"What is it this time?" Sirius sighed. "Can't you see I'm otherwise occupied?" Sirius shot Christy another smoulder, though it was less effective this time. If Vance cost him an easy snog, he'd find some way to pay her back for it.

"Something about some pixies you let loose in the library," Vance said, licking chocolate sauce off her fingers.

"That? That was last week. She can't have anything on me now-"

Sirius stopped talking abruptly, realising he'd all but admitted his guilt. Vance had raised her eyebrows.

"Well I don't know what she has or doesn't have on you, all I know is the deputy headmistress has requested your presence. Now. So it looks like you won't be needing all of these waffles."

Vance reached out for a second one and Sirius jerked the plate out of reach. Two of the waffles slipped off the plate and onto his pants, leaving a long smear of cream down the front of them. Sirius cursed.

"Waste of a good waffle," Vance said sadly. "Oh well." She grabbed one from the plate, used a spoon to add some chocolate sauce, and turned to go. "I wouldn't keep McGonagall waiting, Black, she's not a patient woman."

And Vance swept out of the shop, the second girl to walk out on him in half an hour. Christy eyed Sirius for a moment, then stood up too. "I guess I should be going then."

She glanced down, then snatched up the last waffle. "Thanks for the chocolate, Black. Good luck with McGonagall."

Then she too disappeared out the door. Sirius swore. This was not how he'd planned for the morning to go. Sirius stood up.

"Where do you think you're going, deary?" said Madam Pudifoot, swaying over to him, her large hips creating a sort of rolling motion as walked.

"Er-"

"Someone's paying for this food," the café owner said.

"Er, right."

Madam Pudifoot sighed. "I know that look. Your stomach is full and your pockets are empty."

The stout old woman leaned over and plucked a few hairs off of Sirius' head. He winced and pulled away. "Just a little insurance," she said grimly. "You'll be back here tomorrow to foot the bill, or I'll whisk these little beauties," she waved the hairs at him, "into a potion for seven years' bad luck. I'd be prompt if I were you boy."

Then, with a condescending glance at the smear on his pants, she swayed back behind the counter. Sirius stood frozen for a moment. This wasn't the way the world worked for Sirius Black. Sirius Black ruled every room he entered, he stole every heart he happened across, he ate every waffle placed before him. This had to be an alternate reality he'd stumbled into.

Remembering that in this alternate reality Professor McGonagall was waiting for him, not to mention (hopefully) Christina Fletchley with her big brown eyes, Sirius pulled his robes tighter to hide his stained pants, lifted his chin and strode out into the street. Let it never be said that Sirius Black took a single step without flaunting the Black charm.


End file.
